|
MEMORIES of Wartime
Poem by Brian Hooper
Copied from The Greater London Pensioner
Can you remember the old days
When times
were really hard?
Ration
Books and gas masks
And the
lavvy down the yard.
Everybody else as well
It weren't just us you know,
To use the lav you had to trudge
Through
rain and sleet and snow.
You
lit a little candle
But 'cos all lights were banned
You
has to stop it showing
By shielding it wi' your hand.
You went off down the garden path
And then without a doubt,
Just as you reached the lavvy door
Wind
would blow the candle out.
Behind the door which didn't fit
Was
paper from the Daily Mail,
Cut in squares, with a string poked through
And hung up on a nail.
The door had a gap at the bottom
It
was the same all down the street,
So if anyone were in there
You could always see their feet.
If you bad to go at night time
It
was black as anything,
And
it paid to whistle loudly
Or
just sit in there and sing.
You had to make some sort of noise
Of that
there was no doubt,
In them days doors didn't open in
They
always opened out.
I learned to read in the toilet
I
swear that story's true,
Well when
you're only six
There's
not much else to do.
What about the old tin bath
That
you must all recall,
Four foot long and made of zinc
And
hung on the coal shed wall.
Brought indoors just once a week
It
was really quite a sight,
A steaming bath in front of the fire
Every
Friday night.
brothers
and my sisters bathed,
They
got to do it proper,
As mum kept it nice and hot
With water from the kitchen copper.
I got put in right at the end,
When
the water was nearly cold
You bad to
put up with that
if you weren't very old.
When the sirens sounded
Their long and eerie drone,
We
got under the kitchen table
Our Mum
stayed out alone.
When the raid was over
And we'd nothing else to fear,
We'd all
shout 'sod off Hitler'
You can't
get us in here.
Brian
Hooper
|
MEMORIES
